


The Four Stages of Life

by inakindofdaydream



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon Universe, Christmas, Christmas Cookies, F/M, Hogwarts, Hogwarts First Year, Marauders' Era, Secret Santa, as in not an exchange but likely someones gonna dress up as santa
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-15
Updated: 2018-03-15
Packaged: 2019-03-31 21:01:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13983246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inakindofdaydream/pseuds/inakindofdaydream
Summary: There are Four Stages in Life1- You Believe in Santa Clause2- You Don't Believe in Santa Claus3- You are Santa Claus4- You Look Like Santa ClausFirst Year Marauders fic, Lily still believes in Santa because that's the obvious train of thought once you're told that magic exists.





	1. 1- You Believe in Santa Claus

One night in early November of their first year, James Potter found himself in the Hogwarts kitchens making Christmas cookies with Lily Evans while she explained to him why Santa Claus was real.

 

"In the Muggle world," she said very matter-of-factly, with a posture and self-confidence ridiculous for most eleven-year-olds, let alone eleven-year-olds awake at one in the morning, "Santa is one of the only magical things that people believe in. But eventually when they grow up they realize that reindeer can’t fly and you can't fit toys for all the kids in the world, or at least the ones who celebrate Christmas, into a single bag and all the other stuff because magic isn't real. Kids stop believing in Santa when they stop believing in magic."

 

James nodded sleepily as he tried to concentrate on slowly rolling out the dough for their next batch. This was only his second time down in the kitchens. The first time he and Sirius had finally discovered it after weeks of searching (James' parents had insisted that they couldn't reveal all of the ancient school's secrets or he'd have nothing to do for seven years.) They'd filled their bags with treats from the surprised house elves and clamored back up to the Gryffindor Tower concealed by James' cloak (though their triumphant giggles almost gave them away more times that they would admit.)

 

Tonight, James had snuck down on an errand rather than an adventure. One of his and Sirius' roommates, a pale, sandy haired boy named Remus Lupin, was feeling poorly. He had already been sick a couple of times that term, so they decided they had better do something to cheer him up. Sirius had proclaimed himself the witty one (more like the lazy one) and plopped down on Remus' bed to regale him with amusing stories of his and James' already impressive list of shenanigans and rude jokes he'd picked up from his relatives. He'd sent James off to the kitchens to retrieve a healthy supply of chocolate.

 

When he'd arrived, he'd been shocked to find Lily Evans elbow-deep in flour flocked by two house elves and humming Greensleeves. She was in a good enough mood to not snipe at him, which had been her usual reaction since the unfortunate run-in on the Hogwarts Express when he'd teased her friend and she'd stolen his heart (obviously, both of them were equally at fault there). So when he asked what she was doing, she explained simply that she was testing out new cookie recipes for Christmas.

 

"But it's November," he said foolishly. She merely acknowledged his words with a glare before looking back down at the recipe in front of her.

 

"I need walnuts," she said, and one of the house elves hurried away to return with a bag almost as large as they were. James leapt forward to help the elf, lest they be crushed in the pursuit of the perfect Christmas cookie.

 

When he placed the bag on the long counter where Lily had set up her operation, she smiled at him in thanks. His heart smiled back and that's how he ended up helping her make cookies for the rest of the night.

 

"But magic _is_ real," Lily exclaimed. James tried his best to hold in a giggle because _of course_ magic is real. Whether or not he succeeded was unclear because Lily didn't seem to be paying much attention to anything outside of her Santa diatribe. Bits of the dough she'd been kneading flew off her fingertips as she articulated her point with her hands. There was even some stuck in her vibrant locks that James caught himself staring at. 

 

"Plenty of different species of animals fly, and I just learned about undetectable extension charms in the book Professor Flitwick gave me. And there's Apparation and Dumbledore's ancient and Santa's probably an even better wizard than him, or what if Dumbledore IS Santa? He has the beard--OH" she turned to the elf next to her. "Santa's an elf, how long do you tend to live? Do you know him? Or maybe it's more of a passed down post."

 

She mused on this possibility to herself for a long enough moment that James' eyes began to flutter closed. He'd sent one of the elves to Gryffindor tower with a basket of chocolate shortly after Lily had wrangled him into cookie making. At the time he'd felt proud that he was getting chocolate to Remus and getting to spend time with Lily, but know he regretted that Sirius didn't have a reason to come looking for him. The whole dormitory had likely fallen asleep halfway through the basket.

 

They'd started with walnut, then snickerdoodle, peppermint-chocolate, and now they were trying out two different ginger bread recipes. It was an enjoyable activity, especially when the batches came out of the oven (the remaining elf wouldn't let them go near it, and sternly told them to stay put while they tottered back and forth with the large trays). Lily whipped out a strange, worn packet of _lined_ parchment and an odd, featherless quill to take notes while they conferred on the pro and cons of each recipe. He was curious about the presumably muggle objects, but refrained from asking about them. Lily was _l_ a _ughing._ With _him._ He didn't want to risk her temper or even frustration.

 

So as Lily continued he nodded when he thought it appropriate, and tried to be as eloquent as he could about chewy versus crunchy, crumb quality, and icing variations. The notebook, as she called it, was filled from weeks of previous experimentation notes. James was impressed that she had discovered the kitchens so early.

When he told her this, she scrunched her face to suppress a smile (James’ heart skipped a bit) and then replied primmly, “Cleverness doesn’t always have to be used destructively.”

“We’re aren’t always destructive,” he protested.

“You aren’t always as clever as you think you are either,” she said.

“Well,” he blinked, “if that is my thanks for my labor, I’m just gonna.” He kept blinking. He was so tired. “Wait, so you think some of our jokes _are_ clever?”

This time Lily was the one blinking rapidly. “No? You’re twisting my words around. You’re clever- _ish_ but you’re stupidness cancels it out.”

“You think I’m clever. Brilliant. A genius”

“I have said no such thing. Pass me the flour,” she said, pointedly looking at her gingerbread dough instead of the increasingly smug James.

“So which cookie are you gonna leave for Santa?”

“That’s the whole POINT!” she exclaimed, once again scattering flour across a five foot radius, “We have to find the Best Cookie for him. All this time when I thought that he was probably just a story I was content with just leaving out regular old sugar cookies with the odd sprinkle but since HE’S REAL I have to step up my game!”

“Is that why you’re starting so early?” he said without thinking.

Her earlier glare returned. “I always start making Christmas cookies in October. Halloween in a great way to test out new recipes on the general public.”

“Huh?”

“You can pass them out with the candy.”

“Passing out candy?”

“Do wizards not have trick-or-treating?” He looked at her blankly. She sighed, “Wizards can fly and all that but they’re really lacking in holiday celebration.”

“We’re good at Christmas! And Halloween! Though this trick or treat things sounds interesting. But we’ve got the trick part down! Did you see what me and Sirius did with Flitwick’s pumpkin?”

“I knew that was you lot!”

“We just don’t need all the extra time to make Christmas spectacular.”

“Are you saying I _do?_ ”

“I’m saying it’s the middle of the night I’m tired and I don’t see why you can’t make cookies during the evening or some other reasonable hour.”

“Someone’s cranky.”

“Well so what if I am?” he huffed. “It’s been lovely Evans, really, but it’s way past my bedtime and Remus has probably eaten all the chocolate and I’m taking my cloak so good luck getting back to the dormitories without getting caught by Filch.”

“What’s your cloak going to do to keep you from getting caught?” Lily asked.

“What?”

“I just give Filch some of my cookies and he walks me back to Gryffindor Tower,” she explained, “But what’s special about your cloak?”

“Nothing!” he grasped for some explanation, “It’ll just keep me warm, so he can’t hear my teeth chattering and find me out of bed.”

“He can hear your teeth chattering corridors off?” She asked, not in the slightest convinced.

“Yes?!”

She stared at him for a moment before shrugging, “I’ll just give you a plate of the cookies anyway, you did help.”

James was a bit shocked. He didn’t expect her to give up so quickly, in fact he was surprised she wasn’t still mad at him for questioning her Christmas prowess. 

He startled as Lily pushed a plate of cookies into his hands. Looking up he saw she had a concerned look on her face. Did he have flour smeared on his cheek?

“I’m gonna clean up now, I bake the gingerbread another night, ‘cause you’re right it is late.”

“Alright,” said James, and he moved to set down the plate to help.

“No,” she said, grabbing his forearms, and consequently his poor little heart, “You’re exhausted. Go to sleep.”

“M’not gonna to leave you with the mess,” he slurred.

“It’s fine, Trinny will help me and you can pay us back later.”

He tried to protest further but she was already pushing him to the door.

“Night, Potter”

“Night, Evans.”

James ambled his way back up to Gryffindor Tower and to the First Year Boys Dormitory. He was really grateful for the Cloak, because even if his teeth _weren’t_ chattering, he wasn’t bothering to be very sneaky.

When he finally made it to his bed, he barely managed to slip off his trainers before collapsing onto his mattress, still holding the Christmas cookies Lily had given him. 


	2. 2- You Don't Believe in Santa Claus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We meet the boys. Remus tries to eat breakfast. James is an adorable idiot

The next morning James Potter woke up in a puddle of crumbs with a smirking Sirius Black looking down at him. He was holding a peppermint chocolate cookie to his mouth and leaning oh-so-casually against one of his bed posters.

 

It didn’t seem fair that someone as clumsy as James should know two people who where as uncommonly poised for their age as Sirius Black and Lily Evans. Lily held herself with confidence and determination, but Sirius’ grace came from centuries of breeding and a lifetime of obligation. You need a straight back to carry all of that history and expectation. Meanwhile, James was short, but with floppy feet and hands that made his mother assure him that one day he’d be as tall as his father and also force him to take piano lessons until he got his Hogwarts letter. The only time he could pass for anything like ‘graceful’ was when he was on a broom, though he still had a ways to go before the could make the House team.

 

James pulled himself up, adjusting his glasses that had fallen askew, and steeled himself for whatever ribbing Sirius was about to give him. 

“I like these, did you make them?” he asked.

 

“Erm...yes?” he looked around for the cookie plate. Nothing. “Hey! you ate all of them.”

 

Sirius rolled his eyes, “Only most of them.” He gestured to the foot of his bed where there was a modest stack of cookies.

 

“Oh, thanks mate,” said James. he removed his glasses to rub at his eyes. 

 

“Also we missed Potions.”

 

“What!?” James bolted out of bed.

 

“Well we  _ tried _ to wake you but you wouldn’t get up and kept mumbling about gingerbread.”

 

“Why aren’t  _ you _ in Potions?”

 

“And abandon my best mate?” He mocked, probably, offense. 

 

“But we skipped last week--hey why is my hand all pruny?”

 

“Old Sluggy will live, and I told you, we  _ tried _ to wake you up.”

 

James shot Sirius his best stink-eye, then sighed and began to try his best at shaking off the cookie crumbs.

 

“What time is? I need to go to the Library…” Even though he had just woken up, James was eager to get to the bottom of Lily’s Muggleborn infatuation with Santa. 

 

Sirius looked like he’d been Stunned. “Who are you? Where’s James? His dad’s rich he’ll pay whatever ransom you ask.”

 

“Nonesense, Mum would whoop their arse, Dad would just hold her hat.”

 

“Okay, so, really James then,” Sirius continued to eye him curiously. “Explain yourself.”

 

“Well last night when I was getting the chocolate I ran into Lily--”

 

“The girl from the train?” Sirius still referred to her as this despite having interacted with her on numerous occasions in class or common room since their first run in. James couldn’t figure what he mean by it. 

 

“Yes-- and she was in the Kitchens baking--”

 

“HOW DID SHE FIND THE KITCHENS?”

 

“I don’t  _ know _ but she kept going on about how she believes in Santa Claus. So I need to do research.” 

 

“And you think the best way to research and Muggle tradition is to go the library at a school for _ Witchcraft _ and  _ Wizardry _ ?”

 

“Well!...er.” James hadn’t really had time to think out his plan since waking up moments before. He gave himself a moment’s reprieve by reaching down and grabbing a cookie.  _ Goodness _ they were just as good cooled as they were straight out of the oven. Lily was a genius. “Oh!,” he gulped down his bite before exclaiming, “They ought to have books for Muggle Studies, right?”

 

Sirius scoffed. “Even purebloods know that’s rubbish.” He walked over to his own bed to grab his school bag. “Let’s just go ask Remus.”

 

“Remus?” James asked, through another mouthful of cookie. “But he’s not a Muggle.”

 

“And neither is Evans,” Sirius replied impatiently, “But he’s a halfblood so he’ll probably know.”

 

“Oh, right,” said James, “How’s he feeling?”

 

“The delivery you sent up was much appreciated,” said Sirius, “you should have seen him attack that chocolate fudge.”

 

\---------

 

They found Remus in the Great Hall for lunch. By the time they’d polished off the remaining cookies and James had washed all sugar out of his hair, they’d missed enough of Charms that they’d decided the take the whole morning off.

 

“Seeing as I’m the one who’s been poorly I don’t get why you lot are the ones who skipped lessons,” said Remus. James and Sirius took the tone of their roommate's remark to mean that he had indeed recovered. Furthermore his appetite, for things other than just chocolate, had returned at last, as he was eating his food instead of poking at it. 

 

“You can’t hate us because we brought you chocolate and poor James fell victim to Cupid,” said Sirius.

 

“I WHAT?!”

 

“First off, Blinky brought me chocolate--

 

“I SENT IT!”

 

“IT WAS  _ MY  _ IDEA!”

 

“WAS  _ NOT!” _

 

“--and when did you run into Lily?” Remus finished with little consideration for his roommate’s outbursts.”

 

“You saw Evans?” asked Peter, who had been quietly listening while helping himself to a healthy helping of boiled potatoes.

 

“Honestly, let a bloke share his own midnight rendezvous himself for a change,” James said.

 

“Rendezvous?” asked a still confused Peter.

 

“It means appointment in French,” explained Sirius very matter-of-factly as he poured himself some Pumpkin juice.

 

“I think James means something along the lines of tryst,” countered Remus.

 

“Tryst?”

 

“Ahh yes, a  _ romantic _ rendezvous,” said Sirius.

 

“Romantic? Oy, James does that mean you snogged her?”

 

“WHAT?!” James’ face blanched. Partially because he had so far in his 11 years never kissed _anyone_ , let alone _Lily_ _Evans,_ and partially because the very same Lily Evans would not let him make it to dinner if he let anyone believe he had. “We made cookies! You all ate them this morning! Remember?! _No kissing_.”

 

“So an  _ un-romantic _ rendezvous,” said Peter, “But isn’t that just a regular rendezvous?”

 

“The point being!” James severely regretted his word choice, “Lily apparently believes in Santa Claus, as in, she spent a good hour explaining why he did to me. So Remus,” he turned to his roommate, “Can you explain Muggle Santa to us?”

 

“She still believes in Santa?” asked Remus.

 

“Still?” asked Sirius, “We’ve all  _ heard _ of him but no one ever  _ believes _ in him.”

 

“Well maybe not in the Wizarding World,” said Remus, “But for Muggles, most families play that the his is until the kids grow up.” He thought for a moment over a bite of a roll. “Eleven’s a bit old though.”

 

“It seemed more like she used to not but now she does? Like getting her letter convinced her that he has to be real now.”

 

“Huh,” Remus paused again, smearing some more butter on his roll. “You know,” he said, “that kind of makes sense.”

 

“Makes sense? If it made sense we wouldn’t asking!” said Sirius.

 

“For most people in the world  _ Magic _ doesn’t make sense!” sniped Remus.

 

While his remark surprising quelled Sirius, James continued on, “But Muggles don’t even believe in Witches and Wizards anymore and we  _ do _ exist! What’s with this Santa?”

 

“But muggles really want to believe in magic, don’t they?” Peter asked Remus.

 

Remus, having finished his roll, wore an odd expression formed from both the pride of being the one with the answers, and  the pressure of being put on the spot to speak for a large majority of the human race. Sensible as he was, he took another bite of potato as he considered his words. Also he was hungry. 

 

“Well, Magic doesn’t mean the same thing for her anymore,” he began. He looked over and saw three pairs of pureblood eyes wide and curious. Daft gits. “When she was just in the Muggle World, Magic could be anything. Whatever she wanted...or I guess also whatever she was told. But now that she’s in the Wizarding World she has to learn all the rules of what’s real and what isn’t.”

 

The lads thought on this momentarily. Peter passed James the plate of peas and nudged the half empty glass of pumpkins juice towards Sirius. They each took the offered items, having so far ignored lunch and being reminded that cookies were not in fact enough to fuel growing boys. 

 

“But why does that make  _ Santa _ real?!” said Sirius, “The whole concept is completely mad and unrealistic! All the houses in the world? Presents for everyone?”

 

“A creepy old guy who watches everything you do?” added James.

 

“The reindeer don’t even have wings!” was Peter’s contribution. 

 

Remus huffed. He searched his mind for some sort of example to help his explanation. 

 

“Ok,” he tried, “What you all don’t get that it’s not that easy to figure what real and what isn’t when you’re just introduced to everything all at once! No, listen!” He cut off the various interruptions. He began again as quickly as possible. “In the Muggle World they use something called Science to explain things. Like, how they made telephones to use instead of owls, or airplanes instead of brooms and Apparation, or electric lights. And like not all Muggles understand how all of that works and they make new stuff all the time, but they understand what’s real and what’s made up with that. Like, they know Neil Armstrong is real but The Doctor isn’t.”

 

“Who?” asked James.

 

“Yes! You’ve heard of the show?”

 

“A show? Who are The Doctor and Neil Armstrong?”

 

“Oh, well, Neil Armstrong is the American bloke who was the first man on the moon...”

 

“WHAT?!” chorused the boys. Sirius spewed his juice across the table and began coughing.

 

“...and The Doctor is a Time Lord who travels across time and space on the telly program Doctor Who.”

 

“Wait so some space-travel is real and some isn’t?” asked a skeptical Sirius, ignoring how he’d soaked the two feet in front of him.

 

“THE MOON?!” said a bewildered Peter.

 

“Why does everyone have to be a ‘Lord’?” wondered James.

 

“My grandmother’s brother was a Lord,” said Sirius.

 

“Never would have guessed, Sir Posh.”

 

“Who are  _ you  _ calling posh?!”

 

“GUYS THE  _ MOON _ !!!!” Peter grabbed at Mary MacDonald, their classmate who had the misfortune that afternoon of sitting right down the table from the boys. “DID YOU KNOW THE MUGGLES HAVE BEEN TO THE MOON?!”

 

“Yea, watched it on the telly,” she answered before shaking her arm free and turning away from the group’s dramatics.

 

Peter turned back to Remus, “Mary said that the Moon thing was on the telly too!”

 

“So you’re making it all up!” accused Sirius, “Are  _ airplanes _ even real?”

 

“Yes!” exclaimed an exasperated Remus, “And so are rocket ships! Mary!”

 

“Leave me out of this!” she called.

 

It took a few moments to get the lads to listen to him again. 

 

“Neil Armstrong is a real man who you can go and meet and they launch rockets that you can go and see and they brought back bits of Moon if you’re feeling really contrary about the whole thing but! Doctor Who is a show with writers and actors and sets and they film in Cardiff—“

 

“Film?”

 

“—YES! Er— record the program— but the point is they’re both at least vaguely scientific but Muggles who have grown up in the Muggle World know, or I guess can easily figure out the difference, between  _ science _ and  _ science fiction.” _

 

At this point the table had magically cleared itself of the savory dishes (and Sirius Black's projected juice) and reset itself full of dessert. He rewarded the end of his rant by serving himself a large slice of peach cobbler, loading his fork, and stuffing his mouth full to avoid answering anymore questions.

 

“How are you such an expert Remus?” asked a shell shocked Peter.

 

“He’s halfblood,” answered James.

 

“My mum’s Muggleborn,” said Remus, “and I watched a lot of tele before coming here.”

 

Sirius shook his head in disbelief, still unconvinced about the moon. “The whole things loony. The  _ Moon _ . Pshha.”

 

“So Santa Claus is like this Doctor Who?” asked James, recalling the initial point of their conversation.

 

“His name is just  _ The Doctor _ ,” corrected Remus, “but sure, if that’s how you need to understand it.”

 

At that moment Lily Evans ran into the Great Hall with Marlene McKinnon and dropped themselves down next to Mary.

 

“We missed lunch!” cried Marlene.

 

“Rats!” Lily exclaimed, “But I had to pick up my gingerbread! Trinny put them in the oven for me this morning and and need to determine winner for further testing! We can eat these!” She gestured to the covered dish she had placed on the table.

 

“Or you can eat the sandwiches your most wonderful mate Mary saved for you because cookies to not equal a well balanced meal,” said Mary, revealing a primly prepared stack.

 

“YOU’RE MY HERO.” An overjoyed Marlene dove for the sandwiches.

 

“Oh! Yes thank you Mary,” said Lily.

 

“You’re welcome,” she said, “But why couldn’t you wait until after lessons to get the cookies under later?”

 

“Well,” said Lily, launching into her explanation, “Trinny said she’d put them in the morning and I really didn’t want to suggest she stay up late again today because of last night and so we had to pick them up now so we had time to taste them while they’re still warm because you have to try cookies both warm and cooled to really test the recipe.”

 

“Oh is that all,” said Mary, “Well you’re going to have to do this all very quickly because lunch is almost over.”

 

“You’re right!” Lily exclaimed, “There’s no time! Christmas is almost here!” She grabbed four cookies from the plate and handed two each of her friends. “Try these and write down your thoughts, I have to run these back to Gryffindor Tower! We can test them for strength tonight when they’ve cooled completely.”

 

Mary laughed and Marlene waved distractedly as Lily rose from the table and ran off with the large plate of gingerbread cookies.

 

“Speaking of creepy blokes who watch everything you do,” said Sirius, elbowing James in the side.

 

“Ow,” he said, but he didn't retaliate. An idea was forming in his mind.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr, also as [Inakindofdaydream](http://inakindofdaydream.tumblr.com)


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